The Strands that Bind by AdmirableMonster

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Chalcedony

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Chalcedony’s head felt light and painful at the same time.  She groaned and coughed and blinked.  Something rough brushed over her cheek, and a familiar voice said, Prrrrrp.

“He’s awake,” Celebrimbor’s voice said quietly.  “Boromir, how are you feeling?”

“Son, can you hear me?” That was Da’s voice.  Ma’s voice joined in with a little wordless hiccuping sob.

“M’not,” Chalcedony mumbled without thinking, then blinked again.  She was lying in her bed, with a fresh, sweet scent wafting up into her nostrils.  Prying open her eyes, she found that Annamir was curled up beside her—he had just licked her face—and a little green plant had its leaves dangling near her face.

She gasped.  Her lungs seized with a sudden, sharp pain, and she coughed, sitting up in an attempt to get more air.

“Calm,” Celebrimbor said.  “Breathe slowly.  You’re all right, little one.”  Annamir twined around her, purring, and her breathing eased a little.  She took one great shuddering breath, and then another.

“What happened?” she asked.  The last thing she remembered was the storm in the library—the necklace breaking—beads going everywhere—

“You went to sleep near the kerosene heater,” Celebrimbor said steadily.  “It was burning too high to begin with, and it’s not a safe thing to sleep near inside, in any case.  Annamir found you and carried you out of the cellar.”

But how could he have known, Chalcedony thought blurrily.  An image rose up out of the queer dim muddle of her memories, of a short man in an oil-cloth coat standing in front of her while beyond him boiled a terrible darkness.

Nimruzimir.

“My necklace,” Chalcedony whispered.

It was Ma who stepped forward to take her hand.  “I gathered up all the beads,” she said.  “I—I needed something to do while Celebrimbor was taking care of you.”

“You did?” Chalcedony swallowed against a painful throat.  “I—thank you, Ma.”

“I knew it was important to you.”

“Don’t you mind?” Chalcedony wrenched out.  “It’s—it’s a girl’s necklace.”  Though, of course, it wasn’t, since Nimruzimir wasn’t a girl, but, she, but Chalcedony—Boromir—

“It’s just a necklace,” Ma said softly.

“I promise I’ll get over it,” Chalcedony said desperately, wondering why she was saying all of this, but the awful feeling of being trapped in a too-tight sweater still seemed to be on her and she could not quite keep the words from spilling out.

Looking into a mirror should not be painful, Nimruzimir’s dry voice informed her.  Annamir’s equally dry nose butted the back of her neck. 

“Of course you’ll get over it,” Da said cheerfully.  “You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

Before the screaming misery could build up at that, Ma’s clear voice cut through the too-thick air of the room.  “Merry,” she said. “I don’t think that’s what he’s talking about.”  She seated herself on the side of the bed and patted Chalcedony’s hand.  “Love,” she said softly.  “Won’t you tell us what’s wrong?”

“I, I, I—”

Nimruzimir had left.  He had had to leave because there was no way to be the person he was with his father.  She wasn’t strong like Nimruzimir.  She wanted her parents.

Annamir’s nose nuzzled into her palm, and she felt his mouth open.  Two round, wet objects dropped into her grasp.

The mirror rises before her eyes, and there is Nimruzimir peering through it, his face very drawn and sallow.  His gaze meets hers, and his shoulders slump.  “Little one,” he says, his voice tight and high.  “I was afraid—”

“You can see me?”

A slight twist of the mouth—Nimruzimir’s attempt at a tight smile.  “I am afraid after last night, I was concerned enough to cut down the dosage of my tonic for a day or two—with my physician’s permission, of course.  The tonic that keeps me from seeing beyond my own life.”

“Last night?” Chalcedony quavered.

“Something t-terrible was happening, Chalcedony.  Y-You n-needed someone, so I—”

“How do you know my name?”

“Ah, w-well, y-you see—once alerted, I am afraid I was—p-protective.  And the c-connection n-need not go only one way.”

He had looked through her eyes.  Chalcedony felt her breath growing short and shaky.  “So you know why I—”  She sniffed, feeling tears welling up.

“L-little one, y-you and I—we are alike in some ways, but not, I think, in every way.  For me, it was Lilóteo who first let me unfold.  My father could not have done so.  But it d-does not have to be that way.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying that I believe you should tell your parents.”

“I can’t!”

Ma patted her wrist. 

“You can, honestly, Boromir,” Da said, giving her a crooked grin—and that was too much.  She burst into tears.

“I don’t want that to be my name!” she wept.

There was a long pause.  Da spoke first, sounding confused and a little hurt, “But Boromir—I’ve told you so often why you’re called tha—”

“Meriadoc Brandybuck,” Ma cut in.  “Out.”

“Wh—”

“Out.”

Chalcedony squeezed her eyes shut, sniffing and sobbing.  She heard the sound of Da’s footsteps, and the door opening and closing.  Annamir purred and butted at her.  She felt the bed depress as Ma sat down on it.  “Now, darling, won’t you tell me why you don’t like the name?” she asked, sounding soothing.  “I know you love all those old stories Da tells, so it’s not about that, if it’s not about Boromir, it must be about you.  I don’t want you to be unhappy, and neither will your father, once he’s stopped to think.  What should we be calling you?”

“Ch-Ch-Ch-Chalcedony.”  She hadn’t meant to say that.  “I don’t want to leave, though, I don’t want—”

“Leave? Why would you have to leave?  Because you want to be called by a girl’s name?”

“I—I—I want to be a girl.”  There.  There it was.  The awful heavy weight on her chest—she’d finally spat it up like the poison her mushrooms were trying to eat.  “But—but I know I’ll get over it, Uncle Sam said so, and I don’t want to leave, I want to live with you and Da, and I know it’s just something silly that I’ll get over—”

“Oh, hush.”  Ma didn’t sound chiding.  She patted Chalcedony’s shoulder.  “Yes, people do change as they grow up, Chalcedony, and if you grow up and don’t want to be a girl anymore, then you may deal with that then.  But if this is what you want now, then why not?”

Shocked, Chalcedony breathed heavily and looked up.  Ma was giving her a little smile and squeezing her hand.  She didn’t seem to be at all upset about what her child had just confessed.

“But aren’t you angry or—or upset or—aren’t you disappointed?”

“No,” Ma said firmly.  “Not a bit of it.  If you want us to call you Chalcedony, then we shall.  If you want to dress as a girl, you shall.  If you want to be a girl in any way, you shall.  And if anyone is the least bit rude to you, then I will make certain the neighborhood cuts them dead.”

“But Da—”

“Your father did not understand what you meant.  He is going to apologize.”  Ma’s jaw was set very stubbornly.  “We love you, Chalcedony, do you understand?  Your happiness is the most important thing to us.”

Chalcedony blinked and hiccuped and found that she was stroking Annamir.  “Yes, Ma,” she said quietly.

“I always thought I might have a daughter named Chalcedony,” Ma continued, sounding satisfied, which made Chalcedony cough and choke.

“What? Why?”

“Where do you think you got your fairy-sight from, silly?”

To this, Chalcedony found that she had no answer.

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Chapter End Notes

There was a really interesting persistent idea for a while that plants could be used as air purifiers (see eg https://housefresh.com/house-plant-air-purifiers/)

Unfortunately, it turns out not to be true ( https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2019/03/indoor-plants-clean-air-best-none-them/584509/ ) but Celebrimbor is an Elf and allowed to work some magic.